


flirting with disaster

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: "It's not like that", Awkward Flirting, Complicated Relationships, Coulson going solo, Daisy and Coulson jones over working out puzzles together, F/M, Flirting, Friendship/Love, Gen, Humor, It is, Jealousy, Male-Female Friendship, Missions Gone Wrong, Paranormal, People in denial about their feelings for each other, Trust Issues, Undercover, Unhealthy Relationships, Unresolved Sexual Tension, ha ha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 10:29:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5413403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post mid-season final hiatus feels.  In which I dream of Skoulson becoming the next Mulder and Scully.</p>
            </blockquote>





	flirting with disaster

The hangar doors open and May is standing on the other end of the hallway with Mack.

She walks towards her, with Lincoln at her shoulder.

“What happened?” May asks, throwing a hand up.

Her eyes meet Mack’s for just a moment, and he shuts his eyes, briefly, as she looks back at May, bites her lower lip.

“Coulson.”

May’s mouth turns into a thin line and she glances up at Lincoln, who just gives her a nonchalant shrug.

“How?”

“He knew why we were there,” she answers. “He was after it, too.”

“Working for someone this time?” Mack asks.

“I’m not sure,” she says, sighing.

“Want to tell me how he got away?” May asks, with a knowing tilt of her head.  “ _With_ the package?”

“He had some kind of EMP device to deal with me,” Lincoln chimes in.  “Shorted out _my_ powers.”

“But not yours,” May goes on, focusing on Daisy.

“No,” Daisy answers quietly, crossing her arms.  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t.”

May shakes her head and turns as they start walking together back towards the office.

“I want a report,” Mack says to Daisy, as they stop in the ready-room.

“Of course,” she says, frustrated.  “Sorry. Sir. Director _guy_.”

“You already mentioned the sorry part,” he says, looking her over. “I know you don’t want to hurt him, but we can’t keep doing this.”

She watches as May walks up the steps to the Director’s office, then looks back up at him.

“He’s doing this for a reason.  Let me find out what it is.”

“You want to know why he’s doing this?” Lincoln scoffs. “I know why he’s doing this.”

Daisy sets her jaw and stares right back at him.

“Unless you have something to back that up,” Mack says, putting his hand between them. “Table it.”

He starts to follow after May, and turns over his shoulder back to Daisy.

“Report.  My office.  By morning.”

She nods and then frowns and turns to Lincoln.

“What the hell was that about?”

“Daisy, I saw him with you.  He was flirting. Getting you to let your walls down,” he answers, follows as she starts walking away.

“It’s not like that,” she says, setting her eyes ahead, and they continue on until they’re outside her quarters.

“I wasn't sure, until tonight,” he answers.

She swings around to look and him, and she can’t believe he’s pulling this right now.

When she blew the mission because she didn’t want to throw her _friend_ against the wall with her powers.

“Coulson has _always_ kept secrets,” she tells him.  “Mack and May both know that.”

“You know what, Daisy?” he says, stepping closer to her. “He’s playing you.  Letting you hope you know him just well enough to believe he’s still the same guy.”

“Are you done?” she asks, shrugging at him.

“Have you ever considered that he’s changed?”

“Of course I’ve considered that,” she says, opening her door.  “We’ve all changed. We’ve had to.”

“Not all of us-“

She closes the door on him and slides out of her heels, unzips the black dress she was wearing, and goes through the pockets of her jacket.

There’s a piece of paper inside one pocket and she tries to backtrack in her mind, then quickly pulls it out, unfolds it.

There’s an address on it.

 _Coulson_.

 

#

 

It’s not hard to get out of the base, but getting to the location on the piece of paper is another problem.

Hopefully, Joey’s not going to be too upset she took the motorcycle he’s been working on.

And anyway, if she gets in trouble for this, that’s on her.  She already told Mack exactly what she was going to do.

He didn’t tell her _not_ to.  That’s how things work with them.

No one else is going to do this.  And Lincoln’s almost right.  It _was_ about her.

The question is just…why?

 

#

She knocks on the door, feels the vibration. The click of the gun’s hammer and steps back, raising her hand.

Another thing she knew going in, this could be a trap.

Instead, Coulson swings open the door.

"Don't shoot."

He lets her inside the motel room, and locks the door, puts the gun down on the top of the dresser.

And she looks around, expecting something…more. But it’s just like any other motel room she’s ever been in, with his overnight bag sitting on one of the beds and a closed laptop on the worn round table.

“Aren't you going to ask me if I was followed?”  
  
“No. You're too smart for that,” he says, pulling a phone out of his pocket when it buzzes. “What happened to the dress?”  
  
“What?” she answers, watching him text something into the phone. “My dress?! Who cares?!!”  
  
“It was nice,” he says, glancing up at her for a moment, his eyes sweeping over her. “You looked nice. Campbell, too, although, I have to say, his suit. Eh?“

Ugh.  He’s being smug again.  Doing that thing he does.  He was doing it earlier tonight.

“I’m here,” she interrupts, letting her hands hit the tops of her legs. “What’s this all about?”

“Thanks for coming,” he tells her, finishing up his other conversation.

Probably a burn phone.  Yup.  She watches him toss it in the motel trash can.

She thinks about Lincoln mentioning him throwing her off, and how he’s different now.

“And I rode a motorcycle,” she adds. “So, I had to ditch the dress. Just like I had to ditch my mission.  Because of you.”

His eyes meet hers gradually, and he smirks, but she can see he’s trying to evaluate something.

“This will look great in my field report that I’m giving Mack tomorrow,” she goes on. “Meeting you in the middle of the night?  At a seedy motel?”

His eyes narrow and he shrugs out of his jacket, tosses it on the other bed.

“Getting comfortable?” she asks.

“I’ve got all of the protection that I need now,” he answers, staring her down.

Okay.  She can do this.  This is not weirdly flattering or suddenly more exciting than her undercover op or anything.

“Is that why you needed me?”

“Why else would I ask you here?” he says, raising his eyebrows at her.  
  
“You tell me.”  
  
“I have an extra bed,” he says, walking closer to her.  "We could stay up late. Talking? Braid each other's hair?”  
  
“You're such a jerk!” she says, shoving at his shoulder, and laughing, because she can’t help herself.  
  
“You're here because _I trust you_ ,” he says, looking at her so honestly.  Wanting something in return.  
  
“If you hadn't gone AWOL, so would everyone else,” she replies, letting out the breath she was holding, taking off her leather jacket.

“AWOL seems a bit harsh,” he tosses back, walking towards the table and flipping open the laptop, swiping his hand across it.  Obviously encoded.  
  
“Visiting with paranormal experts?” she asks, following after him.  "Solo missions?"  
  
“You’ve been spying on me,” he replies, sounding a little too pleased again. “You're onto something, though.”

He starts to type, pulling up files on the laptop.

“SHIELD will believe in aliens worshipped as gods, but not the supernatural.”  
  
“ _Phil_.”  
  
“You're here for a reason,” he says, turning over his shoulder to look up at her with a hopeful expression.  
  
“Yeah, I’m worried about you,” she says, touching his shoulder, leaning down over him to narrow her eyes at the computer screen.  
  
“Well, don't be. Was that all?” he says, and acts like he’s going to close the laptop.  
  
“No,” she says, pushing it back open, then pulling the other chair around so she can sit beside him. “I want you to return that HYDRA tech you stole.”  
  
“It's not tech,” he says shaking his head like he’s all-knowing or something.  When did that happen?

"And you lost it, far and square."  
  
“What is it, then?” she asks, putting her finger on the mousepad, pushing his hand out of the way, as she looks through the data.  
  
“Why should I tell you if you won't believe me anyway?” he says, turning back towards her, they're almost touching again.

She looks at him and wonders again, how this got so exciting.

“And by the way," he begins, turning back towards the laptop. "Who was the one suggesting the Clairvoyant was real again?”  
  
She rolls her eyes.  
  
“Please, remind me."

 

#

 

“You really want my help with this? Even if it blows my reputation inside SHIELD?”  
  
“I can't answer that for you.  You saw it, you just have to decide what you believe.”  
  
“I'm not sure,” she says, looking back at him and snuggling down into the covers.  
  
“Mmm,” he hums, moving to switch the light off on the lamp between them, and he gets a confused look, starts moving his hand all over underneath the shade.  
  
“Not about you,” she answers, reaching to tap the lamp on its base with her fingers until it goes out.  “You’re such a newbie, Phil.”  
  
She hears him chuckle in the darkness.  
  
“I'm glad you're here,” he says, sighing down into the covers.  
  
“Me too.”


End file.
